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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27369577">Remember to Forget</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tonks914/pseuds/Tonks914'>Tonks914</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne &amp; Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bittersweet Ending, Falling In Love, Flashbacks, HP Next Gen Fest 2020, Harry Potter Next Generation, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Inspired by Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, M/M, Memory Magic, Minor Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter, Non-Explicit Sex, Sibling Incest</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:07:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,548</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27369577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tonks914/pseuds/Tonks914</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The moment they kissed, James and Albus knew that they'd never be able to live without this — too in love to walk away. Years later, and well into adulthood, the possible repercussions of their relationship feel very real and very scary. Without the strength to break it off, they're left with a single solution: a company that specializes in erasing and altering memories.  </p><p>Now the only thing left to do, is to say goodbye.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Albus Severus Potter/James Sirius Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Next Gen Fest 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Remember to Forget</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For anyone who enjoys using music to set the tone while reading, this song served as the main inspiration during the writing process:</p><p>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q5paJrsIkqg</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>I see you, mousy mousy head filled with regret<br/>
Close your eyes, take a breath, remember to forget</em>
</p><p>James hates everything about international Portkey travel. The extensive paperwork, the dizzying sensation of the voyage, and, predominantly, having to disembark from Heathrow airport. Heathrow, packed to the brim with disgruntled travelers both Muggle and wizard alike. He supposes the arrival gates can be a heartwarming sight on occasion, but as a wizard he’s forced to hastily breeze past or risk suspicion. If you linger too long on the Muggle side of the airport without luggage, you’ll be detained and he is not in the mood to miss his Portkey today. He checks his watch for what he’s sure must be the sixth time in the last ten minutes, trying and failing to to suppress the anxiety that the time evokes.</p><p>It’s not like them — well, it’s not like Scorpius to be late. His mind helpfully avoids all thoughts about horrific accidents and instead zones in on the faint, unrealistic dream that lives in the recesses of his mind. Maybe Albus has changed his mind, maybe the Patronus will arrive any moment calling off the whole holiday. He hates himself for the pathetic flash of hope that bubbles in his chest at the thought. This was his idea, after all — they have to go through with it. The reasons for this trip will still exist in a week just as they have for four years now.</p><p>A familiar shock of white hair breaks through the crowd looking frantic and stopping James’s self-destructive thought process in its tracks.</p><p>“Sorry,” Scorpius shouts breathlessly, “so sorry.” When he reaches James, he doubles over, his hands resting on his knees as his chest heaves.</p><p>James chuckles at the sight, Scorpius has never been known for his athleticism. “You alright?” he asks, patting him lightly on the back as Scorpius nods.</p><p>“Scorpius, I told you you didn’t need to run,” Albus snarks from a few paces behind, not even the slightest hint of fatigue on him.</p><p>Albus. Albus with his disheveled mop of dark hair and terrible posture. His ever present hoodie and emerald eyes. James watches as he rolls those eyes fondly at his friend before finally, properly looking at James. He doesn’t fault him for the slight delay, they’ve learned not to look over the years.</p><p>“Hey Jamie,” he whispers.</p><p>James reaches out and ruffles his hair. “Albie.”</p><p>Scorpius rights himself, finally able to speak. “Well, it was my fault we were running late,” he answers belatedly, “I couldn’t have you missing your Portkey on my behalf.”</p><p>Albus looks at his feet and shrugs apathetically, almost as if that would’ve been the preferred outcome. James wonders if he’s reading too far into it, but then Scorpius smiles at Albus sadly and squeezes his arm lightly, confirming his thoughts.</p><p>Saying Scorpius is a good friend would be the understatement of the century. Scorpius is the best friend. The fact that he’s the only one on the planet who knows the real reason for this holiday and that he’s still standing here, would be evidence enough, but he’s also the only other person who understands how to handle Albus when he’s in a mood or can make him laugh with abandon. James is convinced they could have been more, would have been more, had things not gotten so fucked up. He even brought it up to Albus one time — casually so as not to start a fight. There’d been one anyway but James really hadn’t meant it in a jealous way, more lamenting the normal life his younger brother could have had if things hadn’t been so confused. Maybe that was worse.</p><p>“Okay,” Scorpius says, shifting into his professional tone, “I know we’ve been over this already but I wrote down everything you’ll need to complete the Unbreakable Vow before the procedure.”</p><p>James bristles immediately at the choice of words. As if cutting the most important part of his life out were as simple and as painless as a mole removal. He wants to get angry and lash out but deep down he knows it’s not Scorpius’s fault. The fault lies squarely on James’s shoulder — a regret that won't even be a memory in three, short days.</p><p>“Thanks, Scor,” Albus says, throwing his arms around his friend’s neck. James tries and fails not to watch the way Scorpius inhales Albus’s scent before they break apart. He swallows the bitter taste in his throat, reminding himself that this is what he wants for his brother.</p><p>“Thank you, Scorpius,” James says sincerely, surprising them both by engulfing him in a tight hug. There has always been mutual appreciation between them for their respective roles in Albus’s life, but no one would ever have called them close. “For everything.” He continues, “I don’t know what we would have done without you.”</p><p>When he pulls back, Scorpius looks flustered and emotional. “Everything will be okay,” he says surely, looking from Albus to James and then back again. “I’ll see you when you get back, okay?”</p><p>Albus gifts him with the most sincere smile he can muster and James is impressed with the effort. It’s hard enough to coax a real smile out of Albus before 9 am, even more so when he is in one of his slumps. James’s heart spasms at the realisation that there’s nothing he can do to help him out of it this time — this is a storm that they both must weather. He supposes that it doesn’t matter anyway.</p><p>It’ll all be over in a few days.</p><p>The brothers watch the spot where Scorpius vanished for a moment before James nudges Albus’s shoulder with his own.</p><p>“You ready?”</p><p>Albus shrugs. “As ready as I’ll ever be”</p><p>They join the queue of Portkey travelers, pointedly ignoring the excited stares from the middle aged couple at the front. One Potter may manage to maintain some animinoty in public, but any more than that and they’re sure to cause a slight disturbance. James wonders whether he should warn Albus, but if his sudden, intense interest in the informational posters lining the walls is any indication, he already knows. James allows himself a moment to watch him — the line of his neck, the way his hair curls over his ears, the anxious twist of his cupid bow mouth — he’s so beautiful. Their eyes meet and James can’t help but answer Albus’s shy smile with a sheepish one of his own. He knows he’s been caught, he wants to kiss him and laugh about it, but instead he allows the outside of his little finger to lightly brush the back of Albus’s hand, not daring to do anything more while on English soil. They can’t give the impression that this is anything more than two brothers going on a fun holiday to America.</p><p>“Names?” A bored looking witch barks, in between unattractive chomps of bubble gum, when they reach the front of the queue.</p><p>“James and Albus Potter.” James answers for them both.</p><p>“Oh!” Someone — the female half of the couple they’d seen earlier — gasps from their right. James can only assume that they lingered in hopes of an interaction. “We thought that was you,” she says smiling widely, “didn’t we, Cornealius? Oh, do pass on our thanks to your father, will you? The world owes him a great debt.”</p><p>Albus, unlucky enough to be standing closer to the couple, attempts a polite smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. As always, James jumps to his rescue.</p><p>“Thank you so much,” he says, enthusiastically, pairing the words with his most charming smile. “That will mean a lot to Dad.”</p><p>The woman gives him a watery smile, patting his arm before leaving them to complete their check in. When they turn back to the witch running the admissions counter, her entire demeanor has changed. Eye contact and a friendly smile replacing the apathy from a moment earlier.</p><p>“Right this way, gentlemen,” she says, turning and beckoning them to follow.</p><p>Albus mimes retching behind her back causing James to let out an undignified snort. The girl glances their way but, thankfully, that’s the end of the interaction. They’re all quiet as she leads them down a cramped hallway to a grey cubicle where a small, middle-aged wizard named Clarence recites a list of regulations and warnings without looking up from his cheese sandwich.</p><p>“Now, if you’ll please place your hand on the umbrella to my left,” Clarence says, gesturing to the table at his side, “the Portkey for Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, United States of America, leaves in two minutes.”</p><p>James moves first, anxious to be as far away from Clarence and the smell of cheese as possible. He places his hand on the umbrella and watches as Albus takes his place on the opposite side of the table. There’s plenty of space for both of their hands to rest comfortably without bumping, but Albus positions his hand right up against James’s, maintaining an intense eye contact all the while. He licks his lips, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and for a moment James allows himself to forget the depressing reason for the trip, the impending goodbye, all of it, instead focusing on the heat polling in his stomach at the thought of having Albus all to himself.</p><p>Albus smirks as if he knows exactly what’s on James’s mind just as the umbrella starts to shake, startling them both.</p><p>Albus stumbles as they land in the unfamiliar office, reaching out a hand to steady himself on James’s bicep.</p><p>“Welcome! Names?” A harsh voice, in a startling accent, yells much too loudly for the cramped space and early hour.</p><p>“Oh, hi.” James says, struggling to regain his bearings after the jarring arrival.</p><p>“Names?” The man prompts again.</p><p>James shakes his head, willing himself to be functional. “James and Albus Potter.”</p><p>The man nods, waving his wand over the ledger in front of him. “And please confirm the city of origin for your trip?”</p><p>“London, England.”</p><p>“Right. Wands?”</p><p>They both fumble anxiously in their pockets before producing their wands. The man takes them, waving his own above the ledger once again and then returns them just as quickly.</p><p>“Everything looks good here. Welcome to Pittsburgh,” he says, motioning for them to leave.</p><p>The brothers don’t wait to be asked twice, exiting through the single door to their left. James is surprised to see that they’ve been deposited directly in the middle of a Muggle eating area. He’d heard this airport was small but he’d assumed the wizarding side would consist of more than a single, dingy room.</p><p>“Check it out, they have those disgusting, health smoothies that you like so much.” Albus says, motioning towards a small counter, decorated in oversized fruit, across the corridor.</p><p>“I think you mean delicious smoothies that also serve as a healthy meal replacement.” James snarks. “Why do you want one?”</p><p>Albus pulls a disgusted face. “Honestly, it’s going to be a while before I can eat anything. That Portkey was rough.”</p><p>James nods his agreement, cradling his own stomach in sympathy. “Well, lucky for you,” he says with a cheeky smile, “now we get to take Muggle transportation!”</p><p>Albus flashes him his best irritated look — the one where he looks like he’s frozen mid eyeroll — and James loves him so much it fucking hurts. He is overcome with the urge to kiss him and his fingers find his wand in his pocket before he’s consciously decided anything, mumbling a quick notice-me-not spell. He still won’t risk it in public but at least this way he can tell him.</p><p>He leans in close and whispers, “I can’t wait to kiss you,” retreating quickly enough to watch Albus’s face transform from annoyance to embarrassment.</p><p>Albus rolls his eyes fully this time and playfully shoves him towards the escalators. James over exaggerates his stumble, walking a few steps backwards, a shit-eating grin firmly in place, before turning and boarding the escalator with Albus close on his heels.</p><p>The escalator has barely carried them a meter when Albus’s eyes find his feet and the smile slips from his face. James would usually jostle his shoulder, get him to open up and unload whatever is burdening him, but there’s no point this time. James knows exactly what’s wrong and there’s nothing he can do to fix it.</p><p>They reach the bottom and exit through the massive sliding glass doors, to find a small, blue car waiting. They slide into the back seat and James gives the driver the address to the hotel. They’re told it’s only a twenty minute drive so they settle in comfortably and watch the landscape of rolling hills and highways pass by. Well, Albus watches the landscape while James watches Albus.</p><p>“We should’ve done this before,” Albus whispers suddenly, his eyes never leaving the window. James can’t help it, the words send a stab of pain through his chest — the idea that Albus regrets them, he should regret them, but still, it hurts. Some of James’s discomfort must show on his face because when Albus looks at him, he immediately backtracks. “Oh, Jamie. No,” he says, squeezing his hand tightly, “I meant go on holiday. I know you asked a few times and I was always too scared. You were right, though, I think we would’ve had fun… under different circumstances, anyway. I’m sorry.”</p><p>James swallows hard. “It’s okay,” he manages through unshed tears. It’s not enough but what can he say? We have other great memories instead? It won’t matter in a few days because we won’t remember it? It’s all so unfair.</p><p>They enter a tunnel cut into an imposing hillside and the driver clears his throat to gain their attention. “You boys are going to want to see this,” he says in a gruff voice.</p><p>The tunnel lights throw strange shapes across the interior of the car and Albus is wearing a look that says he doesn’t quite understand what is so impressive. That is, until they emerge through the other side of the tunnel.</p><p>“Wow,” Albus breathes and James has to agree. Seemingly out of nowhere, they’re on a large, yellow bridge, staring at a city surrounded by water. The light from the morning sun reflects off the tallest buildings, mirroring images in the surrounding rivers. It’s beautiful.</p><p>“It’s the only city with an entrance,” the driver announces proudly.</p><p>Albus turns and smiles widely at him and just like that, nothing matters anymore — not the painful reason for the holiday or how their relationship became so confused — the only thing that matters is that they’re here together. Albus’s smile turns watery and James is sure he’s thinking the same. Luckily for all involved, the hotel is just across the bridge and to the left, otherwise the driver would have to deal with two, crying, snogging men in his backseat. They exit the car, able to awkwardly explain away their ineptitude with Muggle devices and money by their Britishness, and check in to the hotel with little fanfare.</p><p>The elevator ride to their room is torturous — a rumbling, leisurely paced contraption further slowed by the multiple stops for embarking and disembarking passengers. When they finally land on their floor and step out, James only has to glance Albus’s way once to know he’s thinking the same thing, as they both break into a run. James overtakes Albus easily, years on the Quidditch pitch toning his body precisely, but it isn’t until he no longer hears Albus’s footfalls behind him that he realises he’s overshot their room. When he turns, Albus is leaned against the door in an attempt at a relaxing pose but the rapid rise and fall of his chest betrays him.</p><p>“I win,” Albus huffs with a smirk.</p><p>James has to bite his lip to stop from smiling like a loon, because he loves this — loves Albus, confident and eager to playfully compete. It took years to gain his trust enough to be willing to risk failure around James, but now their bond is so ingrained in them both, that it’s strange to think of a time when they weren’t close.</p><p>James raises his eyebrows as he reaches around Albus and unlocks the door, holding it out for him to pass through. It hasn’t even fully shut behind them and he has his arms full of Albus — all teeth and tongues and wandering hands lighting him on fire. It’s always like this in those brief moments when they can really be together — explosive — as they attempt to pour every emotion and withheld touch into just a few moments. Something small to hold them over until the next time when they can truly be alive. It makes him wonder who he’ll be without this.</p><p>He wasn’t able to get a proper look at the room when they came in, but he’s vaguely aware of the bed a few steps away and starts steering them in that assumed direction. Still, he’s startled when Albus’s knees hit the mattress and tumbles on top of him causing them both to fall into fits of giggles. He leans up onto his elbows and stares down at Albus, taking a moment to appreciate the flush across his pale cheeks.</p><p>“I love you.”</p><p>Albus smiles prettily, although James is sure his brother would hex him if he ever told him that. “I love you too,” he whispers back.</p><p>It’s the last thing they say for quite some time.</p><p> </p><p>After is always James’s favourite bit.</p><p>In the afterglow, Albus forgets that he’s supposed to keep people at a distance, that he’s supposed to hide his smiles behind his mop of unruly hair, that he’s supposed to be content on his own. Instead, satiated and warm, he snuggles into James’s side existing in that beautiful space between sleep and wakefulness.</p><p>James buries his face into his hair inhaling deeply, causing Albus to stir. He turns his face upward, revealing his startling green eyes and a soft smile. He reaches up and mindlessly plays with the hair around James’s left nipple, his smile turning sad in the silence.</p><p>“Are you sure we have to do this, Jamie?” he whispers.</p><p>James sighs, cupping his face and pulling him into a warm kiss. There’s nothing he wants more than to say, ‘no.’ To whisk Albus away to some rural part of the world where no one knows them. No longer the depraved sons of a war hero, just two men, hopelessly in love, living out the remainder of their days together. They both know it’s a fantasy though.</p><p>“That was so close, Albus,” he breathes into the small space between them, ignoring the flash of panic that the memory invokes, “you know it’s only a matter of time before they catch us.”</p><p>“I know.” Albus sighs, flipping onto his back, his arm moving to shield his eyes. “I just wish -”</p><p>“Me too,” James interrupts thickly, staring down at Albus’s body, his heart clenching at the sight of his slight frame shaking under silent sobs. “Me too, Albie,” he says again, covering Albus’s body with his own as he loses his own battle with tears.</p><p> </p><p>The morning comes too soon. The night full of reminiscing and enjoying each other’s bodies leaves James with a headache rivaling his worst hangover — the one after Teddy’s infamous stag night that they’d all agreed never to speak of again. He still can’t regret a moment of it though.</p><p>They dress in silence — the reality of what they’re about to do hanging heavily in the air. It makes it hard to breathe, like the first attempted gasp after a hard fall from a broom — that brief moment of panic when your lungs won’t cooperate and your eyes feel with tears. Only this time there’s no relief to follow, no deep, grateful breath that reminds you how beautiful it is to be alive.</p><p>“You ready?” he asks numbly.</p><p>Albus doesn’t respond, he just shrugs and trudges to the door looking like a dead man walking.</p><p>They make their way to the lobby, James snagging a banana from the continental breakfast bar while Albus fills a cup with his usual black coffee, and then they’re off.</p><p>“Scorpius said it’s only four blocks from the hotel,” James says when they exit the hotel. “Do you want to call a car or are you good to walk it?”</p><p>“I can handle a four block walk, James,” Albus spits.</p><p>James doesn’t rise to the bait. He knows the icy tone doesn’t mean Albus is actually angry with him, but he won’t hesitate to find a reason to be if James engages him. Instead he shrugs and starts in the direction of their destination not bothering to see if Albus is following.</p><p>The walk is fairly pleasant, the unfamiliar scenery and bustle of commuters allow for enough distractions that they can avoid discussing what they’re about to do. When they reach their destination, James is taken aback. The building looks completely innocuous, just an office building like any other, not a place where people have parts of themselves cut out — a graveyard of unwanted memories.</p><p>He holds the door open for Albus who passes through silently and follows closely on his heels. From the outside, you’d expect to be entering a modern, sterile office lobby, but the moment the door shuts behind them, it’s apparent something magical has taken place. Instead of concrete floors and industrial fixtures, the room is decorated in a style reminiscent of the 1970s — all burnt oranges and browns. It’s warm and inviting in a strange way.</p><p>Standing in the center of the room are two people, an older woman and a man around their father’s age. Their matching dark skin and eyes would have James guess that they are mother and son — he wouldn't say it aloud though, he’s been wrong before.</p><p>“Hello there. And welcome.” The woman says with a smile. “You must be the Potters.”</p><p>James nods, swallowing hard and reaching forward to shake her hand. “Yes, I’m James and this is Albus,” he says, motioning to his right.</p><p>Albus follows suit, albeit more stiffly, shaking the woman’s and man’s hands in turn.</p><p>“Right,” the man says, smiling warmly, “I’m Kasey and this is Edith. Why don’t we sit down and discuss the procedure and if everything is to your liking, we can proceed with the Unbreakable Vow? Mr. Malfoy indicated that you’d be interested in one?”</p><p>“That’s right,” James says, following their lead and sitting on a small couch next to Albus.</p><p>“Well,” Kasey continues, “as you know our process involves surfacing the basic progression of the unwanted memories. When we remember something, that memory doesn’t stand alone. It connects to past memories and future events,” he says, flailing his hand as if grasping for the words, “almost like a string that weaves through our minds and through our lives. We refer to this string as ‘the trail.’ Once we’ve uncovered the trail, we’re able to create replacement memories that fill in the gaps. For example, I assume that you’ll still want to be close after this?”</p><p>“Yes,” they answer much too loudly, in unison.</p><p>Edith and Kasey both chuckle as Kasey continues. “That’s not a problem at all. Some of the memories, I’m sure, will be able to remain somewhat intact. We won’t have to remove the entire relationship, just the parts that you feel cross the line. Does that make sense?”</p><p>“Yes.” James says, swallowing hard. In truth, he doesn’t understand a word of it but the idea that he and Albus might still be important to each other after this, it makes his eyes sting.</p><p>“Great.” Kasey says with a smile. “So we will start by interviewing you both separately -”</p><p>“We can’t be together?” Albus interrupts.</p><p>“No,” Kasey replies, sympathetically. “Even though you were together for most of the events, your recollections will be different. We can’t have the memories tainted. I hope that’s okay?”</p><p>Albus gives a surly nod, slumping back against the couch cushions. James reaches over and squeezes his knee, offering him a weak smile.</p><p>“So there will be ample opportunities for specific questions in the interview space, but if you’re okay with everything discussed so far, I’d suggest performing the vow?”</p><p>James has all the documents from Scorpius in hand, but they prove to be unnecessary. Edith and Kasey are extremely prepared and professional and don’t miss a single beat of the vow. After, Albus follows Kasey down a short hallway as Edith ushers James into the small room adjacent to the lobby.</p><p>This room is no less inviting, resembling a small dining room complete with a warm wood toned dining table. Edith motions for James to sit, taking her place opposite him, in front of a small vial of glowing, blue liquid. Wasting no time, she hands the vial to James.</p><p>“Hold this in your mouth and after I say the words, swallow half. Only half. Do you understand?” She asks.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Good,” she says, motioning for him to do as instructed and James tips the vial against his lips.</p><p>The liquid doesn’t taste like anything as all. If not for a faint chill in his mouth, he wouldn’t even know there was anything inside at all. Edith is murmuring unfamiliar words that James can’t quite make out, too focused on the task at hand to properly concentrate. When her voice silences, James does his best to swallow only half of the potion, which is more challenging than it sounds.</p><p>“Now spit,” Edith says, motioning back to the vial in his hands.</p><p>As he spits, a wave of dizziness forces him to squeeze his eyes shut. It’s only then that he realises that he could’ve just been poisoned and silently curses himself for his lack of vigilance. His dad and Aunt Hermione would be so disappointed in him.</p><p>“Hand the vial here,” she says, taking it from James’s hand to inspect. James sees that the colour has changed from a bright blue to a muted purple. “Perfect.” Edith says happily, leaning back into her chair and summoning a pitcher of water and two glasses. “Now, why don’t you start at the beginning?”</p><p>“Oh,” James stammers, unprepared and more than a little bit embarrassed that he now has to tell this old lady all about how he started snogging his little brother. “Well, I guess our first kiss was on accident -”</p><p>“That's not the start,” Edith interrupts harshly.</p><p>James furrows his brow in confusion. “Yes it was,” he insists, “that was our first kiss.”</p><p>“The story doesn't start with a kiss, love. The story starts with a thought.”</p><p>James swallows hard, chewing on his lip painfully. So many memories swirling in his mind, it’s hard to decide which was the first, but then just like he’s always known, his mind stops suddenly on a memory he’d entirely forgotten. He clears his throat.</p><p>“I remember the first time I thought he was beautiful.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>There are many amazing ways that James envisioned the start of their annual beach holiday, but being lectured by his mother was definitely not one of them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m not sure what you want me to do about it, mum,” James says with a sigh, falling back onto the bed. “He hates me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He doesn’t hate you, James.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>When James only scoffs, his mum plops onto the bed next to him. They lay in comfortable silence for a few moments before she breaks it. “Teddy said that you were feeling responsible for everything that happened with Albus this past year.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Traitor,” James grumbles. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t be cross with him,” she says, turning to face him. Her red hair falling into her face before she swats it away. “He’s just worried about you. I am too to be honest.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m fine, mum,” James insists.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She gives him a look that says she’s entirely unconvinced. “You didn’t cause Albus to do what he did, James.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No,” he acknowledges, “but I definitely didn’t help the situation. I knew, mum. I knew how awful kids were being to him and I didn’t do anything.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Right. And that’s really shitty,” she says matter-of-factly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James huffs a laugh, completely caught off guard.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The way I see it is you can keep on silently brooding about it, which I’m sure is making you both feel a lot better,” she says, poking him playfully in the ribs. “Or, and just hear me out here, you try to find some common ground and see if maybe you can fix whatever is broken there? What do you say? I really think spending time together will do you both some good.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James sighs, knowing that he’s already lost. “You’re right,” he grumbles.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His mum’s eyes light up. “What was that?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I said you were right. Don’t push it.” He laughs, throwing a pillow at her as he gets up and leaves the room.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It doesn’t take long to find Albus. He’s just a few paces away from the back deck, sitting on the beach — not taking in the sun or splashing in the waves — just sitting, cloaked in his hoodie as if it’s not 26 degrees. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>James rolls his eyes before approaching him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hey Albus,” he says as a way of greeting. Albus only lifts his hand in a half-hearted wave. “Do you maybe want to play frisbee?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus looks at him like he’s sprouted two heads. “Have I ever wanted to play frisbee, James?” he snarks as if James is stupid. James bristles immediately.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. This would usually be the point where he makes a cutting remark about Albus’s athletic prowess and leaves him alone, but he promised his mum that he’d try and he plans to do just that.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Okay,” he concedes, “what do you want to do then?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus narrows his eyes. “I’m just listening to music,” he says, indicating the Muggle earbuds nestled underneath his disheveled hair.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Any good?” James asks, for lack of anything better to say.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Obviously,” Albus snips, “or I wouldn’t be listening to it.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>James smirks, determined not to let him get a rise out of him. “Budge over,” he says, “I want to listen too.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus eyes him skeptically for a moment, but when James only stands there, he scoots over and hands him an ear bud. “You won’t like it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James tries not to look too victorious as he sits at Albus’s side.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The music is shit but something about sharing the space with Albus — the warm press of his body at James’s side, the comforting way he bobs his head to the music — it’s nice, a reminder that he’s here, he’s alive. They listen for as long as James can stand holding still — which is longer than he can remember sitting in one spot for — well, forever if sleeping doesn’t count. He lets Albus know he’s hungry and gets up to make his escape when he trips over a notebook at Albus’s side. There on the top is a gorgeous sketch of the pier to their left. He picks it up to inspect more closely, wondering why he never knew his brother could draw.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Albus, did you draw this?” he asks, startling Albus.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Give me that,” he shouts, standing to try and snatch it away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No,” James says, using his height to his advantage to hold it out of Albus’s reach. “Albus this is really good. You shouldn’t hide this away, you’re properly talented.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus flushes all over, as he snatches the notebook back. He tries to hide the smile but he fails and it’s so unexpected, so rare, that James can help the strange thought that creeps into his mind. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He looks beautiful.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>James stops talking, eyeing Edith who looks like she may have fallen asleep. “So…”</p><p>“Hmm?” Edith asks, opening one eye.</p><p>“I mean, there are a lot of memories. Do you need every single one since that holiday?”</p><p>“No,” Edith assures him, “whatever one comes to you next will be the right one. I’ll tell you if there are gaps in the trail.”</p><p>“Okay,” James says, taking a sip of water before continuing. “Well, that really was the moment that started everything. We spent the whole holiday together, listening to music or swimming. I even managed to steal some Firewhisky and we got so pissed. I’m pretty sure mum and dad knew but I think they were so happy we were spending time together that they ignored it,” he says with a laugh. “When we got home, I really think Albus expected me to ignore him — to spend all my time at Ted’s or playing Quidditch with Roxy and Freddie but that’s not what happened. I don’t know, I guess you could say we became proper friends that summer.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>If you had told James three months ago that his summer would be spent in the company of his little brother, and what’s more, that he was actually going to enjoy said company, he’d have told you that you were completely off your rocker. Life is weird though and through some cosmic joke, that’s the situation he’s found himself in. They spend their days watching Muggle films and listening to music. James may even be willing to admit that not all of Albus’s music is complete shit. And Albus will even compromise from time to time and go flying, if no one else is around, anyway. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>James still has moments where he forgets how prickly Albus can be — that he can’t joke with him in the same way he can with Ted or Freddie — but he’s learning, and he likes to think that he’s becoming a pretty good brother. At least that’s what his mum tells him on a daily basis.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And Albus, it turns out, can be really awesome. All the parts of him that used to annoy James — his biting sarcasm, dramatic eye rolls, and introverted nature — have become his favourite bits. Albus isn’t generous with his smiles and will never gift someone with a sympathy laugh, but that doesn’t bother James anymore. Instead it makes each smirk and small chuckle feel like something to be cherished. James has made it his personal mission to make Albus laugh out loud at least once each day, and he succeeds most of the time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Today is a rare exception, though. After a full day spent at the Burrow, with the extended family, Albus is quiet and withdrawn. When they get home, James manages to convince him to watch a movie in his room — something funny to try and cheer him up — but nothing seems to be working to pull Albus out of his slump. After multiple failed jokes, James resigns himself to silence.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He doesn't notice they've fallen asleep until he startles awake. Well startles is a bit dramatic, but the unfamiliar sound definitely pulls him from a deep sleep. It takes him a moment to place it — the small whimpers and mumbled words, bringing to mind Grampa Weasley’s decrepit, old dog. He pulls himself into a sitting position, looking down at Albus who is laying at his side, his shoulder twitching. That’s when James notices — the sounds are coming from Albus, he’s crying in his sleep. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Albus," James whispers, reaching a hand out to shake him lightly. “Albus, you’re having a nightmare.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus stays firmly asleep but the whimpers are growing in desperation, transforming from small, high pitched whines to full sobs. James is sure he hears a ‘no’ in between the cries and all attempts at a delicate waking fly out the window. "Albus,” he shouts, shaking his brother roughly, “Albus. ALBUS!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus’s eyes shoot open but it’s immediately apparent that waking up has done nothing to calm his panic. His breathing is coming out in gasps as tears pour down his face. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Shhhh,” James soothes, not quite sure what to do. He settles for placing, what he hopes, is a comforting hand on Albus’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Albus. It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He watches helplessly as Albus uses both of his hands to stifle his sobs. “Do you want me to get mum?” he asks in a panic.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus shakes his head violently. “No, no, no, no, no, ” he cries. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Okay, okay,” he assures him placatingly, “it’s okay, Albus. Just come here,” he says, pulling Albus against his chest. James expects him to push out of the hug immediately but instead his hands bunch in the fabric of James’s t-shirt, pulling him closer as he buries his head against James’s chest.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus’s entire body is shaking violently and James does the first thing that comes to mind. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I see you, mousy mousy on your day so blue,” he starts, reciting the stupid poem their mother wrote for Albus when he was little. “Your day alone and wishing someone would notice you. I see you, mousy mousy trying to be strong. The way your shoulders hunch, so sure you got it wrong.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus crying is soft now but his breathing still refuses to slow. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do you remember that poem, Albus? Come on, say it with me,” James prompts, running his hand through Albus’s hair. “Come on. I see you, mousy mousy head filled with regret. Close your eyes, take a breath, remember to forget.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James tries to pull back but Albus holds him tight. “Do you remember the rest?” he whispers. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus nods against his chest. “But,” Albus croaks, his voice thick, “you see me, mousy mousy, noticing it now.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James smiles. “That’s right. And I’ll stay here, I’m with you, for as long as you’ll allow.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You see me, mousy mousy, I think that you're the best,” Albus mumbles, “come in close, lay in my arms, you deserve a rest.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You see me, mousy mousy, I think you always knew,” James continues, finally able to put some distance between them. “That for all the days and all the time, I’ll keep on loving you”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus flops exhaustedly back against the pillows, his arm falling across his eyes to block out the world. For a moment, they sit in silence, neither sure what to say.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Such a shit poem,” James says, earning him a huff of laughter from Albus. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It kind of rhymes at least,” Albus concedes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So,” James says on an exhale, “is that a thing that happens sometimes?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus sighs, pulling himself into a sitting position, his fingers finding a loose thread in the duvet. “Sometimes,” he admits.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James bites the inside of his cheek. For some reason, the idea that Albus has been going through what James has just seen — completely on his own — makes him really angry. “Has this been since the Time-Turner stuff?” he asks, attempting to keep his voice neutral. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus nods. “Yeah, it’s not all the time though.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t you think you should tell mum and —”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No!” Albus interrupts emphatically. “You can't tell them!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I won’t!” James assures him, his hands coming out in a placating gesture. “I just thought they could help.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s my mess,” Albus says, standing up and walking towards the door. “I’ll deal with it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Woah, where do you think you’re going?” James asks, throwing a pillow at him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“To sleep?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh no,” James says, sliding beneath the covers and pulling the opposite side down. “You are definitely staying here tonight.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m not going to be able to sleep knowing you might be going through that in the next room, Albus. You’re sleeping in here. We’ll bring your bed in tomorrow and then we can be roomies.” He finishes with a cheeky wink. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus hesitates in the doorway, clearly having a silent battle with himself. James waits to catch his eyes and then pats the side of the bed earning him an eye roll and a smile. The sight makes his heart flutter. Albus climbs into bed and burrows beneath the covers. So much time passes before he breaks the silence, his words so barely audible, that James wonders if he’s meant to hear it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Thanks Jamie.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Edith lets out a hardy chuckle that startles James from his memories.</p><p>“What?” he asks with a laugh.</p><p>“I just think it’s hilarious that with that story you just told me, that you still thought this started with a kiss,” She says, not unkindly.</p><p>James shrugs. “I don’t know,” he admits, “I guess that I just love him in so many ways that it’s sometimes hard to pull it apart and see where one ends and the next begins. Does that make sense?” he asks, scratching his head. Even with the Unbreakable Vow, speaking about Albus so freely still feels strange.</p><p>“Perfect sense,” Edith says with a smile. “So was that the whole story?” she prompts, feigning ignorance.</p><p>James can’t help but smile at her cheek. He’s surprised to find that he’s really starting to like her.</p><p>“No,” he says pointedly, “I’m just trying to figure out where to go next. Albus did move into my room and then, just like that, it was our room. We ended up turning his into a really cool hang out space. Even Lily appreciated having it to host her friends when our parents were being particularly annoying.” James stops and takes a small swig of water. “Albus still had nightmares from time to time but we kept the beds close enough that I just had to reach over to shake him awake. It worked out well.”</p><p>He swallows hard, looking down and tracing a knot in the wood. “I’d watch him sleep sometimes. I don’t have any specific memories about it but I know I did. And I knew it was weird on some level but I think at that point I thought I was just worried about him.” James stops, suddenly self conscious. “You must think we’re so fucked up.”</p><p>“I don’t think anything,” Edith assures him with a kind smile. “Misplaced love is one of the sweeter things we have to deal with here.”</p><p>For some reason, James believes her entirely. He returns the smile and continues. “School was weird that year. We still got along great and I didn’t let anyone say a word against him, but I had Quidditch and he had Scorpius. It was just different. When we were home on breaks, everything was great though so I knew he didn’t have any hard feelings about it. Still it wasn’t until the summer after I graduated that things, you know… progressed.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“I can’t believe my little boy is sixteen years old!” Mum, coos, pinching Albus on the cheek playfully. He scrunches his face uncomfortably and pulls away with a pained smile.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Eww, leave him alone, Mum,” James teases, in a poor attempt to pull the unwanted attention away from his brother. “Everyone here knows that I’m your favourite, anyway. You can stop overcompensating.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hey, fuck off!” Albus laughs, flinging a bit of stale icing at him that misses him by at least a foot.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Language,” his dad warns from where he stands at the sink, finishing the dishes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus aims a disgruntled look in James’s direction — the gesture meant for his eyes only — and he can’t help but smile soppily in return. He loves that their relationship is so close now, like a near constant private joke that fills James with a joy deeper than he’s ever felt.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Can I go over Madeline’s house?” Lily interrupts with a whine. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s your brother’s birthday, Lily,” his dad reprimands tiredly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t mind if she goes,” Albus assures everyone, although whether he’s actually being a good brother or it’s just to undermine their father, James can’t be sure. “We already did the cake thing so it’s cool with me.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Their parents share a brief, silent conversation before their mom turns to Albus. “You’re sure?” she asks.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yep,” Albus says, “I’m going to head upstairs soon anyway.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lily bounces excitedly on her heels twice before throwing herself at her older brother. “You’re the best brother ever!” she shouts, squeezing him tightly despite his best attempts to free himself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Again, another blatant lie,” James jokes as he pries Lily away from a grateful-looking Albus. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, okay then,” Dad says shooing Lily from the room. “Go get your things ready.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus slides down in his chair, pulling his hoodie sleeves down over his hands. He’s starting to get that look about him — the glassy stare that happens when he’s starting to be overwhelmed with company. “You wanna go upstairs?” James asks, nudging Albus with his socked foot under the table. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus nods as he stands. “Thanks for the — uh — the party and everything,” he says awkwardly, to no one inparticular. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Their parents beam in his direction. “Of course,” mum gushes, “we’re proud of you, love.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hopefully next year Scorpius will be in town and can come celebrate too,” his dad adds, earning him a genuine smile from Albus. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>James tries to ignore the confusing mix of emotions that swirl through his mind at the mention of Scorpius. On one hand, he loves that Albus has someone — that he isn’t alone on those long days at Hogwarts. He really is grateful for that, but there’s still a small part of him — that dark, nagging part of his mind that resents how much history the two friends have together, how effortless it seems to have been for Scorpius to understand what makes Albus tick.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He shakes his head, doing his best to clear his mind, making his way to the bedroom with Albus close on his heels. Albus falls face first onto his bed with a groan.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James watches him for a moment wondering if he should give him time to recharge. In the end, his excitement wins out. “I got you a present,” he announces in a sing-song voice.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus turns his head lazily to look at him. “You already got me a present,” he says indicating the freshly sharpened, charcoal pencils that sit upon his bedside table. “And I really loved it,” he says with a sincere smile that makes James’s stomach swoop uncomfortably.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James clears his throat, trying to shake off the discomfort that has been plaguing him more often than not as of late. “I guess this is a gift for both of us,” he admits, busying himself by rummaging blindly under his bed, letting out a “whoop” of excitement when his hand connects with the gift. He turns dramatically, brandishing an unopened bottle of Firewhisky. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus throws his hands in the air in a silent cheer before sliding from the bed, to sit across from James, extending his hand in clear request for the bottle. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Two hours later and they’re properly pissed — loud and silly, and leaning into each other for support. James supposes he is what some would refer to as an affectionate drunk, he knows his drunken cuddling has gotten him into trouble with more than one girl at Hogwarts, anyway. Most would expect the alcohol to make Albus mean but it, surprisingly, does quite the opposite — the removal of expectations and anxiety, leaving him giggly and sweet. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Then what happened?” Albus slurs, his head falling to James’s shoulder.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Um,” James starts, turning to look at Albus and startling at the unfocused nature of his eyes. He lets out a bark of laughter. “Albus can you even see me right now?” he asks, pinching his brother’s chin.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus laughs, leaning further into James. “I see two of you. Does that count?” he says, holding up three fingers.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I really don’t think it does, Albie.” James laughs.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus tilts his chin up and he’s so close, James can count the light freckles across his nose. “You haven’t called me Albie since we were kids,” he whispers, his breath puffing lightly against James’s lips, causing a shiver to run through James’s body.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I guess I haven’t,” he breathes, his heart hammering in his chest. He doesn’t know why he feels so anxious all of a sudden. Maybe it was the mix of sugar and Firewhisky — his mum may have been onto something with the sugar ban. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Before he has a chance to voice his anxiety or move away to fetch some water, Albus leans up, closing the miniscule gap between them. The first press of his lips is so chaste, if not for the length of the kiss, James could excuse it away as brotherly affection. As it is, though, Albus’s lips linger, causing James to gasp against his mouth. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>That’s all it takes, that small movement from James, and Albus is pulling away violently. He scrambles to his feet, tripping over a discarded sheet on the floor. “Fuck,” he says, cradling his head and he looks so scared that James can only think of reassuring him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Albus - ” James starts, even though he has no idea where that thought will finish.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh fuck,” Albus says again, stumbling towards the door. James moves to follow but Albus frantically shakes his head. “Don’t!” he warns, turning and fleeing. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>James doesn’t follow. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>When James wakes up the next day, Albus’s bed is gone — moved back into his old bedroom across the hall. Albus won’t even look at him, let alone talk to him, and manages to secure an invite and permission to meet Scorpius in France by the end of the next day. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>James's parents attempt many less than subtle ways to find out what happened between them, but when James refuses to divulge anything they drop it. Still, it’s clear that they’re disappointed in him for starting up the old rivalry with Albus again. James can’t be arsed to care right now, though, because all he can think about is Albus. Is Albus okay? Is he hating himself for what happened? Did he know it was James he was kissing? How long has he wanted to kiss him? And then sometimes, late at night — what would have happened if James had kissed him back?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s thoughts like that — moments when the memory of his brother’s lips on him leave him hard and confused — that cause James to exist in a haze of self-loathing. It’s no wonder Albus kissed him, he was just reflecting James’s own disgusting thoughts back to him. Or maybe Albus didn’t kiss him at all, maybe James moved first and Albus left because he was uncomfortable. It all makes him feel crazy. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mostly though, he just misses his brother.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s Sunday when Mum tells him that Albus will be back later that afternoon and James is so relieved he could cry. Hoping for some alone time to talk, he chooses to skip Sunday dinner at the Burrow. He decides the best course of action for both of them, is to pretend like nothing ever happened. He moves Albus’s bed back to their shared bedroom and attempts to read through some recruitment information for the Appleby Arrows, but nothing is holding his attention. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Finally, after what feels like hours, he hears the tell-tale signs of Albus’s arrival — the Floo roaring to life, the quiet curses when Albus clearly falls on his ass — it makes him smile. James listens as footsteps clomp up the steps and down the hallway. He hears the door to the extra bedroom open and then slam shut, before his own door cracks open to reveal Albus, who is clearly startled to see him lying there. He looks tired and small — diminished in a way that James hasn’t seen him look in years. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why is my bed back in here?” he spits.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James drops his paperwork onto the bedside table, and throws his legs over the side of the bed. “Oh hi, Albus,” he says sarcastically, “I missed you too. How was your trip?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus glares at him and it’s a stare so penetrating, that James knows this is not going to end well. Albus always shoots to kill. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why did you move my bed?” he asks again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why did you move it in the first place?” James shouts, standing up. This isn’t how he wanted this to go but he hadn’t expected Albus to be quite this difficult. He flails, desperately trying to figure out a way to resolve this without mentioning what happened. “You are being so bloody dramatic!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Are you serious?” Albus snarls, stalking purposefully into the room.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes!” James shouts desperately, although desperate for what, he isn’t sure. “Albus, I don’t care that you’re gay!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus flashes him an incredulous look and James knows he’s fucking everything up. There’s no manual on how to handle a situation as fucked up as this, though. “The fact that I’m gay?” Albus laughs but there’s no humour behind it. “That’s what you’re on about right now?” he growls, his face a mask of disgust. “You don’t care about how royally fucked up in the head I am?” Albus shouts with tears in his eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And that’s when James sees the anger for what it is — the confusion, the pain, the self-hatred — it’s all barred before him, naked and vulnerable. As much as James has been hurting this last week, it is nothing compared to what Albus has been going through. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Albus come on,” he says, taking a step towards his brother.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No,” Albus says, pushing him hard, causing James to stumble backwards. “Just give me my bed.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James crosses his arms across his chest. “No.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Move James!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, Albie,” James begs desperately. “Just talk to me!’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus shakes his head, attempting to push past, but James catches his arm. He means to shake him, to force him to talk this through, but the moment he feels Albus in his grasp, his resolve crumbles. He grabs Albus’s face roughly and crashes their lips together. This kiss isn’t anything like the first — there’s nothing gentle about the way they're pushed together, nothing chaste about the way their tongues battle for dominance. After both too much time, and not enough, they pull back.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You aren’t the only one fucked in the head right now, okay?” James shouts and he’s crying — ugly, snotty tears falling down his face. “Just — stop shutting me out,” he pleads, shaking Albus lightly. “We’re in this together. Please.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He steps back and eyes his brother for a moment — his beautiful green eyes, the dazed look he wears, his kiss swollen lips, before running terrified from the room. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>James has been sitting on the couch with a movie playing for the last hour, but he can’t seem to follow the plot. He’s not used to feeling like this, so out of his depth. Everything comes easily to him usually, he’s James Potter — charming, talented, attractive — there’s not much that he can’t master, no situations where he’s left uncomfortable. This thing with Albus though, it makes him feel out of control, like he’s free falling — like he’ll never find his footing again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus clears his throat, drawing James’s attention to the doorway. He walks purposefully into the room and sits on the couch, leaving space between them. They both pretend to watch the movie for a few minutes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know what we’re doing,” Albus finally whispers, not taking his eyes off of the television.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Me either,” James admits thickly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We probably shouldn’t then,” Albus says, even as his hand traverses the small space between them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah,” James whispers, his hand moving to meet Albus’s, their fingers intertwining against the rough cushions. That small touch, the feeling of Albus’s fingers caressing his own and James can hardly breathe. He gasps and when his eyes meet Albus’s, he’s surprised to find him just as affected. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus leans towards him, so infinitesimally that James would’ve missed it had he not been looking. It’s enough, James meets him in the middle, in a soft, perfect kiss that causes his stomach to swoop and his toes to curl. He doesn’t hesitate because they’re in this together now.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>James pauses for a moment, lost in thought. It has been many years since he’d thought about that first kiss and being this far removed from the utter terror makes him feel a bit nostalgic. He stretches his arms above his head and looks at Edith. “In retrospect,” he admits, “I think I should’ve been more panicked about the whole thing but you know how it is when you’re falling in love for the first time. You can’t see anything outside of that.”</p><p>Edith smiles warmly and takes a sip from her tea cup. James’s eyes are immediately drawn to the vial at her elbow, the way the violet liquid seems to have a dark plum tint swirling throughout. “Is that it? The trail?” he asks.</p><p>Edith nods. “Strange?” she asks. “That something that feels so big, can look so small?”</p><p>“Something like that,” he chuckles, tapping his fingers on the table. “So that was the start,” he says awkwardly, before taking a drink of water.</p><p>Edith cocks her head as if assessing him and James can’t help but fidget under her gaze. “You’re hesitating.”</p><p>It’s not a question and James can’t deny it. He swallows before giving voice to his discomfort. “Well,” he says, clearing his throat, “I think the next big memory is almost a year later?”</p><p>“Is that a question?” Edith chuckles.</p><p>“No, it is the right memory,” James says more confidently this time, “it’s just that it is a bit more… private?” Ridiculously, James can feel his cheeks heat, as if telling her about snogging his little brother wasn’t embarrassing enough. “I guess I just don’t know how much detail you need?”</p><p>“Hmm,” Edith hums noncommittally, “I need as much detail as you think I need. If it feels right to only describe the feelings, then it’s right.”</p><p>“Okay,” James nods, feeling fractionally more comfortable. “Well, all we did was kiss for a long time. I would stop if anything started to get more heated. It just felt like a line that if we crossed, there was not going back.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It’s Christmas Eve, and the house is eerily silent, their parents and sister long in bed. James does his best to allow the rustle of the trees outside to lull him to sleep but so far it isn’t working. Falling asleep on Christmas Eve has always been challenging for him, the excitement for the day of festivities that awaits him, too stimulating to turn off. James huffs irritably and flips to his side.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>From the other side of the room, Albus’s mattress springs give a groan of protest, as he stands and it’s only a heartbeat before James feels Albus crawling beneath his own covers. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Merry Christmas, Jamie,” he whispers, with a small kiss to the back of his neck. And this has probably been the most surprising thing about starting this whole mess with his brother — Albus can be sweet. Usually late at night, under a cloak of darkness, and when he’s feeling particularly confident or loved, but sweet nonetheless. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You woke me up,” James whines, feigning annoyance.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus laughs. “Bullshit, you’ve been tossing and turning all night. You haven’t slept at all.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James flips onto his back to stare up at his brother. He reaches out and tucks a particularly rebellious strand of hair behind Albus’s ear, causing a light blush to bloom across his cheeks. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re beautiful, Albie,” James whispers, because he can’t help himself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus pulls a face. “I’m not a girl,” he mumbles irritably. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>James licks his lips and smiles cheekily. “I definitely know that,” he says with a kiss to Albus’s nose. “You’re still beautiful though.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus looks suddenly nervous, chewing on his lip and fidgeting with his hands. James is about to ask what’s wrong when Albus pulls back the duvet and throws a leg over James’s hips.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What are you doing?” James asks stupidly, trying and failing to tilt his body in a way that hides his reaction to having Albus in this position. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Shhh,” Albus says, as if acknowledging what he’s about to do will make him lose his nerve. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>When James opens his mouth to protest, Albus kisses him, not sweetly like before but hungry and desperate. It makes James wonder how long he’s been wanting this, wanting Albus this way. It causes his last objections to die on his lips — he’s never wanted anything or anyone more than Albus and if Albus wants him too, then James won’t deny him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In mere minutes, they’re both hard and panting into each other’s mouths. James is immensely proud of himself for remembering a haphazard Silencing Charm. As lost as he is for his brother, he’s not delusional enough to think they won’t both be committed to an institution the moment anyone finds out.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus lifts up onto his knees, and James instinctively helps him divest them each of their pants. Feeling this close to his brother, this honest and vulnerable, the feeling alone is enough to get him addicted. They stare at each other, both trembling from fear and adrenaline, their ragged breaths mingling in the small space that separates them. James reaches up and cups Albus’s cheek, relishing the way Albus pushes into the touch. They smile at each other, committed to this beautiful secret together. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus leans down and kisses him passionately. “I thought this might help you sleep,” he whispers wickedly against his lips and James can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’s so in love it hurts. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>After doesn’t feel like James thought it would. It doesn't feel like there has been a cosmic shift, the world isn’t coming to an end, and people aren’t breaking down the door to drag them both to Azkaban. It’s as simple as two people who love each other, basking in the afterglow. Honestly, with Albus against him, satiated and warm, James can’t feel anything but perfect. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He doesn’t understand how this could possibly be wrong.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>James is crying. It started softly, privately almost, but the longer it goes on the harder it is to control. As if a dam has broken and there’s no stopping the flood waters from drowning him. “There were more times,” he attempts through sobs, “but I don’t remember the details.” He scrubs painfully at his face. “I wish I remembered all the details. They all seem so important right now.”</p><p>He drops his face into his folded arms and feels all of it. All the hope and loss and love. The reality of what he’s doing here hitting him with the force of the killing curse and leaving him gasping for breath.</p><p>He’s losing it. All of it. Albus.</p><p>“I think it’s time for a break, okay?” Edith says, reaching across and patting his head in a gesture reminiscent of Gran Weasley.</p><p>He stands numbly, shuffles around the table, and follows her through the door, willing himself to be a functional person. He’s sure he’s far from successful. When Albus sees him, he stands, his face a picture of concern. James knows that he should reassure him but he doesn’t have the energy.</p><p>“Albus,” he says. Three steps. Three stumbling steps and James collapses in his arms — their roles set since birth, suddenly reversed as Albus rocks him gently.</p><p>“Shhh,” Albus soothes, “Jamie, I’ve got you. It’s okay.”</p><p>James isn’t sure how long they stand like that, directly in the middle of a 1970’s themed lobby, but it’s long enough that James starts to feel embarrassed. “Sorry,” he mumbles, righting himself and wiping his eyes roughly.</p><p>Albus catches a tear that he missed and smiles sadly at him. He doesn’t waste either of their time with promises that everything will be okay and James loves him immensely for it. “You hungry?” he asks, instead.</p><p>James smiles and nods. “Always.”</p><p>Stepping back onto the street of downtown Pittsburgh is a jarring experience, all the discontented commuters, pushing past them and grumbling about their inactivity, with no care for what they’ve just been through.</p><p>“Kasey says there’s a pretty good pizza place right across the street? It’s take away so he suggested we eat at the fountain over there?” Albus prompts, narrowly avoiding the corner of a woman’s umbrella as she passes.</p><p>“I can always eat pizza,” James says with a weak smile.</p><p>The pizza place is small and cramped but smells divine. His stomach grumbles uncomfortably, making him realise just how long it has been since he’s eaten. They make their way to the counter and order their “slices” and “pops” quietly chuckling at the strange vernacular here. They take their food and make their way across the street to the “state park” which looks more to James like a grassy knoll with a fountain at the end.</p><p>“It looked a lot closer from across the street,” Albus grumbles as they make their way across the grass. “Our food is going to be cold by the time we get there.”</p><p>James laughs, loving the sense of normalcy that Albus grumbling about exercise brings. He looks over and watches as a shiver runs through Albus’s body, making him snuggle further into his oversized hoodie, trying to memorize every inch of him. James wishes it mattered. That soaking up these moments, committing every inch of him to memory would give him something to hold on to later. Losing all of this seems so unfair.</p><p>When they finally reach the fountain, James follows the lead of everyone around them, and perches on the rim. Albus pulls himself up next to him and they both sit facing each other with pizzas in hand.</p><p>Albus takes a bite and pulls a face. “It’s cold,” he deadpans, causing James to fall into a fit of giggles.</p><p>“God, I love you,” he says with a smile.</p><p>Albus ducks his head and hides his smile behind his drink. “I love you too,” he mumbles, quietly.</p><p>They eat in silence, enjoying the views of the city and rivers that surround them. When he’s done, James leans back on his hands.</p><p>“So, how’s it going for you?” he asks.</p><p>Albus shrugs. “Shit,” he says with a humourless laugh, biting his lip and looking away. “Kasey is really nice, though.”</p><p>“Edith too,” James agrees, not sure what else to say.</p><p>“This hurts so much, Jamie,” Albus says suddenly, looking him right in the eye. “Maybe we could try again? Just be brothers?”</p><p>“Do you think that will work?” James asks, knowing the answer. “Could you stand watching me meet a girl and fall in love?” Albus’s eyes find the ground, and James puts a hand on his knee and squeezes. “We wouldn’t be able to be close, Albus. We might be able to stop but I know I wouldn’t be able to watch that — to watch you fall in love with someone else. In no time at all, we’d be strangers.”</p><p>“I know,” Albus whispers. “Lately I’ve just been wishing we were from a shit family. One that we could leave without looking back.”</p><p>James laughs warmly. “I guess we just can’t catch a break, right?” he says sarcastically.</p><p>The two brothers smile warmly at each other.</p><p> </p><p>In no time at all, James is back in the strange dining room, sitting opposite Edith.</p><p>“Did you have a good lunch?” she asks.</p><p>“Yeah,” he says, “thanks for knowing that I needed a break.”</p><p>“Of course,” she says. “Are you ready to finish?”</p><p>James nods. “So, from then on, we were a pretty normal couple. I mean, no one could know of course. To everyone else, we were just two brothers who were best friends, but behind closed doors we did the rest of the normal couple things. We watched movies, we snuggled, had sex, were disgustingly in love,” he says with a laugh. “Everything was perfect. Except when it wasn’t.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“So what? Are you going to date her?” Albus accuses, angirly, pacing a hole back and forth on their bedroom floor.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In truth, James would like to do anything but date Marjorie from the Arrows front office. He truly can’t seem to find a way around it, though. Not after that comment from his Dad about his dating life, and the one from his teammate, Conor, about his and Albus’s closeness. It feels like that walls are closing in around him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He sighs, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Yes, Albus,” he says although it pains him to do so.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What the fuck, James?” Albus shouts, and James tries to remember that he’s only yelling because he’s so hurt.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do you think I like this?” he hisses. “I only want you Albus. Only you. But if we don't date a little bit and we continue to spend this much time together, people will start to get suspicious.” He sighs, softening his tone. “Do you want Mum and Dad to realise something is going on between us?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus shakes his head, biting down so hard on his lip that James is surprised it doesn’t bleed. He picks at his cuticles for a few minutes before voices his concerns in little more than a whisper. “Are you going to kiss her?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James’s eyes find his feet and he nods. “Yes. But it won’t mean anything, okay? It's just a kiss. It's not a big deal.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It is to me,” Albus says, his voice breaking, “I've never kissed anyone but you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>At his confession, James feels a stab of guilt — like he’s some sort of predator who stole his brother’s first kiss before he could have it properly. It’s twisted. “Maybe you should,” he insists, ignoring the jealousy that flares inside of him. “Find a girl. Go on a date. See how that feels.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m very gay, James,” he spits.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Scorpius then,” James suggests and Albus’s face twists instantly from annoyance to disgust. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I would never do that to him,” he says, enunciating each word clearly, “use him like that. He’s my best friend, James. How could you think I could do that?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James just stares at his brother, trying to figure out the cause of his anger, like he’s studying tapes to perfect a particularly challenging dive on his broom. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh,” he finally says, amazed that he hadn’t noticed it before, “you like him?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don't be stupid,” Albus snaps, much too quickly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You do,” James says, and he’s not angry per se, just sad. Sad for himself, sad for Albus. “It should be you two. It was meant to be that way. This,” he says, motioning between them, “this has never been right.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It doesn't matter now,” Albus says, denying nothing. “I only want you.” Albus stares at the walls as if they aren’t the same walls he’s stared at for the last two years, James watches him — the anxious twitch of his jaw, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. “If you think you need to date this girl, it’s fine,” he whispers. “I can’t do that though. I’m sure everyone will just assume that no one can stand my moods, anyway. It’s fine.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s not ‘fine’ though, that much is abundantly clear. James wishes he could avoid this, that he could call off his date and tell Albus that it will only always be him. He knows that’s a fantasy though — if not Marjorie, it will be another girl soon enough. It has to be this way if they want to stay together.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Albus - “ </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t,” Albus warns, “it’s fine. I’m just going to go draw for a bit.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>James watches as he gathers his sketchbook and pencils and leaves the room without looking back. When he’s gone, James feels empty.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Do you need another break?” Edith asks.</p><p>“No,” James assures her, “this bit starts to get pretty painful so I just want to get through it.”</p><p>“I know you can,” Edith agrees. “You lived it. You can tell it.”</p><p>He nods. “Well, I did date Marjorie for a couple weeks. Just long enough to get everyone off of my back. It got easier once I got my own place, then everyone assumed I was pulling every night and was just private about it. I didn’t actually leave home until Albus graduated and could come over any time, though, so I guess I was pulling a lot of the nights.” James laughs.</p><p>“Albus asked to move in with me but I thought it was best if he didn’t,” James says. “I told him I didn’t want anyone to get suspicious but, in truth, I wanted him to have some distance. To make sure I was really who he wanted. Honestly, a part of me really didn’t think we’d last once he moved in with Scorpius. I mean, I guess we didn’t in a way.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>James likes to think he’s a good friend — he’s funny and supportive, and a great wingman — but after four weeks of dealing with a heartbroken Conor on his couch, he’s starting to consider becoming a recluse. Although, that might be the fact that he hasn’t gotten laid in two weeks talking, but it’s still how he’s feeling. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Conor insists that he doesn’t mind if James brings someone home, he helpfully adds that he knows four weeks without sex is a long time. James is pretty sure he’d change his tune if James showed up with his own little brother, though, so he’s forced to deal with a terrible case of blue balls.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“James,” Conor calls from the living room, and James bristles at the sound of his voice. “Floo call for you!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James makes his way into the living room and is pleasantly surprised to see Albus’s head poking through the flames. “Hey Albus.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hi James. Do you want to come over?” he asks, getting straight to the point. “I have something to show you!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Everything okay?” James asks, confused.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah,” Albus assures him, “just come on.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James only has to glance at the couch and see Conor covered in cheese curl dust to confirm his decision. “Budge over,” he announces, “I’m on my way! Bye Conor.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“See you,” Conor shouts through a full mouth.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James lands in Albus’s living room, taking a minute to appreciate how pleasantly lemon everything smells. For living with house-elves his whole life, Scorpius has learned to keep a very clean flat. Albus is perched on the edge of the couch and is smiling at him strangely.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What?” James asks with a smile. “What do you have to show me?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“My empty flat,” he says with a sly smile, extending both arms out in display. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Empty?” James asks, not wanting to get too excited in case he’s misunderstanding Albus’s meaning.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yep, Scor got chosen for some last minute research assignment. He’s going to be gone for two days," he says with a shit eating grin. “I thought maybe you’d be interested in fucking me in my own bed for a change? It’ll give me something to think about when you’re not here.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>James is on Albus before he’s even finished his sentence, kissing him hard as he backs him towards the couch. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They’re well into their chosen activities when it happens. In retrospect, James isn’t sure why they didn’t lock the Floo, why they didn’t make it to the bedroom, why the universe is out to get them, but that’s the reality of the situation. James doesn’t even hear the Floo sound, too caught up in the delicious grip of Albus’s body. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh!” Scorpius squeaks from behind them, causing them to break apart with an embarrassing pop and little finesse. James ends up on the floor, his discarded trousers used to hide what little dignity he has left, while Albus is curled on the couch, clutching a cushion so tightly he looks like he’s planning to suffocate himself. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m sorry!” Scorpius yells, flailing his hands helplessly. Inexplicably he’s crying but James supposes that makes sense since now that he looks closely, Albus is too. James is too shocked to feel anything at all. “I’m so sorry,” Scorpius says again, looking from James to Albus and back again. “I should’ve Floo’d ahead?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The way he says it, like a question,makes James want to laugh, or cry, he isn’t quite sure right now. Instead he makes a sound somewhere between amusement and annoyance. “You don’t have to Floo ahead at your own house, Scorpius.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Right,” Scorpius says, as if he’s just now realising this, his world so turned on its head. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Please don’t hate me,” Albus cries from his place on the couch in a pitiful tone that James has never heard from him. It breaks his fucking heart and causes his own first tears to fall. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Albus,” Scorpius says, glancing once at James as if he wishes they were alone. “Albus, I could never hate you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m sorry,” Albus says, through tears and Scorpius is there, picking up discarded clothes and handing them to an astonished Albus before turning his back. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s okay,” Scorpius says through sniffles. “It’s okay,” he repeats again, although to calm Albus or himself, James isn’t sure.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James takes the opportunity for privacy to pull on his own trousers and shirt, ignoring the uncomfortable way the wetness makes them cling to his skin. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Albus,” James says, moving towards his brother but stopping in his tracks. Albus looks so lost, so confused, as if he’s just realised that what they’re doing is wrong. It makes him physically ill. He turns and runs, barely making it to the adjoining kitchen before losing all of his lunch in the sink. He turns and slides down the cabinets, cradling his face in his hands.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus and Scorpius are talking in whispers and James does his best to tune them out, wanting desperately to be anywhere but here. Eventually the Floo sounds and it’s Albus at his side, joining him on the cold, linoleum floor.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We need to stop this,” James says on a sob.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know,” Albus cries, resting his head on James’s shoulder. “I know, Jamie.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>When James returns to his flat that night, he’s a different man. Embarrassed, ashamed, heartbroken, lost. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Whoa,” Conor says, jumping to his feet, “is everything okay?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I need you to leave, Conor,” James says tiredly, making his way to his bedroom. “I can’t have you staying here for a while, okay?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To his credit, Conor only nods, his concern never wavering. “Okay,” he says, “yeah, of course. What happened though, James? Can I do anything?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No,” James replies, going into the room and slamming the door shut behind him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He barely moves for two weeks, claiming a near deadly strain of dragon pox to keep people away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s Scorpius who eventually comes and picks up the pieces. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“James?” he shouts from the living room, as he trips over various objects lining the floor. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“In here,” James yells, his voice sounding scratchy and strange to his ears </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Scorpius opens the door to his bedroom slowly, as if he’s not quite sure what to expect. Still the sight of James seems to appall him. “To be clear,” he states matter-of-factly, “the dragon pox thing isn’t true, right?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, Scorpius,” James says on a yawn, “it’s not true.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh good,” Scorpius says, taking his first, tentative steps into the room. “I just wasn’t sure with —” he gestures to James, “well, you know.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What are you doing here, Scorpius?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We need to talk,” he starts and then stops dead, pulling his hand to cover his mouth and nose. “What is that smell?” he says, feigning retching. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be rude, but when was the last time that you showered, James?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James only shrugs, burrowing deeper into his covers. “I didn’t ask you to come.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Nope!” Scorpius announces suddenly, shaking his head violently as he pulls the duvet off of James. “Taking care of one depressed Potter is more than enough work, thank you very much. This is just ridiculous. You’re going to get a shower. Now!” He says in a tone that brokers no room for argument and has James seeing his resemblance to his father for the first time. He reaches forward and helps a disgruntled James to his feet. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Somehow Scorpius, with his gangly frame and calming nature, manages to manhandle him into the shower with such force, that James is sure he will be impressed later. He hands him soap and shampoo and scoffs at James’s request for privacy, reminding him that he’s seen him in much more intimate positions than through a closed shower curtain. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>After, Scorpius leaves him to dress, mumbling hautilly about the state of the living room, as he gathers dirty clothes from James’s bedroom floor. James settles into a pair of worn, grey joggers and Arrows t-shirt — the one Albus bought him for his seventeenth birthday, the memory causing a stab of longing to flare in his chest. Still, he has to admit that it feels good to be clean and dressed, like he’s at least wearing the costume of an actual human being. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He makes his way to the living room, startling at the lack of clothes and take away containers cluttering the floor and tables. Scorpius is sitting at the small, round table by the window, clutching two mugs.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re fast,” James says, taking in his surroundings. “Thank you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Scorpius smiles warmly at him, genuinely moved by the gratitude. “Here,” he says, sliding a mug towards him, “I wasn’t sure how you take your tea.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>James takes the seat opposite, accepting the mug and savoring the feeling of warmth that spreads through his fingers. “Usually just some milk, but this is fine.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh,” Scorpius says pensively, “just like Albus.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yep,” James responds, taking a small sip. “Well, both just like Dad, anyway. Albus will deny it though so don’t bring it up.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Scorpius chuckles fondly, staring into his cup with a wistful smile. James spares a moment to wonder how long he’s been in love with Albus. Will their relationship move beyond friendship now that James isn’t in the way?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably at the thought, doing his best to distract himself. “How is he?” he finally asks.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Awful,” Scorpius states with a sad shake of the head. “That’s why I came over today. I think you need to come see him. He’s not okay without you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James’s mouth drops open as he shakes his head in pure exasperation. “How are you okay with what you saw?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know,” Scorpius shrugs, “at first I wasn’t because I wasn’t sure if you—” he leaves the thought to linger long enough that James understands his meaning.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You weren’t sure if I forced him? Or coerced him?” James answers for him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Right.” Scorpius answers, having enough decency to look guilty. “I’m sorry.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t be,” James sighs, “I’m just glad he has you to protect him. Clearly I’ve failed so miserably at it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t think that’s true, James,” Scorpius says with an awkward pat to his hand.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, right.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“James, I think you forget that I’ve been here the whole time. Right at Albus’s side,” he says, with a protective ferocity that James wishes he had in a friend. “You know he had such a hard time in those early years, and even more once Craig died — he felt so responsible. And I honestly wasn’t sure he was going to be okay,” he continues, swallowing hard, as if the memory is still painful. “But then, just like that he came back to life. One day it was like he was a shell of himself, and then the next day he was laughing and smiling and just so confident. In talking with Albus these last couple weeks, now it’s clear that it was when you two started everything.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James averts his eyes, blinking back tears. He knows that he’s never wanted anything more than to make Albus feel safe and loved, to make him smile every day, but he didn’t know that he’d been successful.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You healed him, James.” Scorpius takes a moment to compose himself, adding an extra spoonful of sugar to his tea and stirring slowly. “But now —” he whispers, “now he’s hurting again and there’s nothing I can do to fix it,” he says bitterly. “He needs you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James shakes his head, swiping away a stray tear from his cheek. “I don’t think that I can be just his brother again, Scorpius. It has been so long. I don’t think I know how to do that anymore.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Then you’re together again,” Scorpius says with a shrug, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James nearly gives him himself whiplash, he looks at Scorpius so quickly, sure that he’s misunderstood. “What?” he asks, incredulously.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He only shrugs again. “I’m the only one who knows. I love Albus, James. I would never tell anyone as long as you're not hurting him. I don’t think there’s reason for anything to change, for you two to be hurting this much. It seems ridiculous.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James scoffs, completely flabbergasted by this turn of events. “And what does Albus think?” he asks.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Scorpius smiles sadly. “Come talk to him yourself,” he says, standing and making his way over to the Floo. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>When they land in the living room, Scorpius leads the way down the tight hallway, to Albus’s bedroom. He cracks open the door and James attempts to peer around him, but is unable to see anything through the pitch black darkness. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Albus!” he says in a soft, friendly voice. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Scorpius, I ate the bloody broth!” Albus snaps. “Now please stop mothering me and let me sleep.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Scorpius is entirely unaffected by the outburst, clearly used to Albus and his many moods. He flicks on the light, ignoring Albus’s groan of protest. “Well, I’m glad the broth wasn’t too salty and that you ate your lunch,” he says, stepping around the bed and throwing back the curtains. “I was just coming in to tell you that you have company, though.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus throws back his covers and pulls himself into a sitting position and he looks — well, he looks awful — like he hasn’t slept properly since James has seen him last. His usually unruly hair is matted down and greasy and his fair complexion has a sickly tone to it that makes James’s heart clench.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll leave you two alone,” Scorpius says, exiting and pulling the door shut firmly behind him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The room lapses into silence for a moment, Albus staring at the closed door solemnly. James knows him well enough to know what’s going through his mind. He feels the guilt too </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You can’t miss two weeks of practices like that,” Albus croaks unexpectedly. “They’re never going to give you a spot if you aren’t there.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>James laughs through his tears, taking two large steps and collapsing in a heap on top of Albus who accepts his presence gratefully. “I can’t be without you like this, Jamie,” he whispers desperately, kissing James lightly on his cheeks, his nose, his lips. “We need to figure something out.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Good,” James agrees, kissing Albus back just as fiercely. “Scorpius reckons it’ll be okay,” he says against Albus’s lips. “What do you think?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I think we need to at least try,” he says softly, like a prayer, “we’re too important not to.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The next few months are wonderful, as if the glimpse of a life without one another makes each moment feel like a gift. Something about Scorpius knowing and accepting them too, makes the relationship feel less dirty, less wrong. Of course, they’re still not selfish enough to act like a couple in front of him, instead adhering to an unspoken agreement where they all pretend that no one knows why brief goodbyes are taken into Albus’s bedroom or what takes place on the many overnights at James’s flat. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Those nights though, the nights when Albus can sleep over, are James’s favourite. Even during the many years they shared a bedroom, they were never bold enough to risk sleeping in the same bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. Here, in his flat, with Albus tucked warmly into his side, there are no limits. He only has to extend his hand to trace his fingertips down Albus’s spine, to dip his chin to kiss the freckles on his neck, to tilt his hips and start their activities all over again. It’s beautiful. Everything about Albus is beautiful.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This morning is no exception, both of them happily existing in that space between sleep and wakefulness, even when they should’ve been up hours ago. James is just about to suggest finding some breakfast when he hears the Floo and the sound of his name echoing down the hallway. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Fuck!” he says under his breath, jumping out of bed and reaching over to smack his brother on the shoulder. “Albus,” he hisses, entirely panicked. “Albus, it’s dad.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“James, where are you?” their dad calls out, and now that James is fully awake he can hear the panic in his dad’s voice. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Is that Dad?” Albus mouths, somehow already standing and pulling on a pair of trousers despite his lack of consciousness.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Before James has a chance to answer, the door starts to open and James has no choice but to throw himself in front of it. He hears a loud curse from the other side, but doesn’t relent until the door clicks back into place.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“James?” his dad asks, through the door.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m here, Dad,” James responds, breathlessly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Is everything alright?” he says, his voice dripping with a concern so sincere that James hates himself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m coming out now. Sorry. I just have company and… ah,” his eyes flick to Albus who looks equally pained, “she’s not exactly dressed,” he finishes, squeezing his eyes closed against the pain.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh,” his dad says, clearly relieved and, most importantly, stepping back from the door.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James waits a beat, pulling his joggers on, before opening the door a crack and slipping through. “Sorry about —” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Your Mum had a flying accident, James,” Harry interrupts and James feels like he’s free falling.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“She and Luna were on that girls trip and apparently something happened. I’m sorry I don’t know anything else except that she’s in St Mungos. Lily is on her way there now. I’m going to Floo to your brother’s and then I’ll meet you at the hospital,” he says, turning and making his way to the fireplace.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It takes James’s mind a few seconds to catch up with everything his dad has just said, and it’s almost a few seconds too late. “NO!” he shouts, much too loudly, stopping his dad in his tracks. “Sorry. I just mean, you go to the hospital. I’ll Floo over to Albus’s and meet you there.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Are you sure?” His dad asks. “Albus might not appreciate that I sent you instead of telling him myself. I don’t want him to take it out on you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s fine, Dad,” James assures him. “Mum needs you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That seems to solidify the decision in his father’s mind, he nods once and steps into the Floo, thankfully shouting “St Mungos” into the flames. James watches the place where he disappeared for far too long, like he’s frozen to the spot. It isn’t until Albus walks to his side, now fully dressed, placing James’s shirt and shoes, in his hands, that he remembers that there’s an emergency. That his poor mum is hurt.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We need to go,” Albus whispers, not unkindly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James nods, pulling the shirt over his head and toeing on his trainers, lost in a daze. Knowing what James needs before he does, Albus walks him over to the Floo and puts the powder in his hands. James wants to lean over and give his brother a kiss as thanks, but something feels off about it — soiled somehow. His mother is in the hospital with, Merlin knows, what type of injuries. Their father was here and needed their support, and their main focus had to be hiding the perverted things that they do together behind closed doors. He feels disgusting.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>It’s six hours later when they finally return to James’s living room, feeling both grateful and emotionally drained. Luckily, their mother is a fighter and was able to hold on long enough for the potion to take effect and heal her severe internal bleeding. By the time they left, she was back to her old self — cursing up a storm and vowing to expose the broom manufacturer for a faulty braking mechanism. Still though, there were many hours where they weren’t sure she’d pull through and it’s not an experience that James ever wants to relive.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He and Albus make their way to the couch and fall onto the cushions with identical sighs. It’s clear they’re both exhausted but there’s something hanging over them. This feeling that they have unfinished business after the way that everything happened this morning. James can tell Albus feels it too. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>After a few minutes, he breaks the silence. “They’re going to find out eventually.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know,” Albus says — and he’s calm, eerily calm. He has been strange all day, walking around in a daze like he’s trying to figure out the solution to a complicated puzzle. James hates how distant he’s been.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You don’t think we could ever tell them?” Albus asks, and the possible repercussions of that are so terrifying, it makes James sweat just thinking about it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No!” He shouts. “God, no! Can you imagine the looks on their faces?” James asks no one in particular, his disgust written plainly on his face. “Not everyone is as understanding as Scorpius.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus only nods, like it’s the answer he expected. “Well,” he continues, “would you ever be willing to leave?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James looks down, pushing absent-mindedly at his cuticle, because of course he’s considered it. More times than he can count over the years but no matter which way he thinks about it, the story never has a happy ending. “You know they'd follow us to the ends of the earth,” he whispers finally. “Even without the media frenzy that I’m sure would accompany two missing Potters, they really love us. They wouldn’t rest until we were home. And I’d miss them too, wouldn’t you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I would,” Albus sighs, closing his eyes and leaning against the back of the couch, looking like someone much too tired for the world. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know what to do, Albie,” James admits. “I tried to be without you and I felt like I’d die. I’m not strong enough for that.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus sits up and takes James’s hand with a grip so ferocious that James is sure he’ll have bruises. He brings their joined hands to his lips and places a kiss, leaving his lips attached, as if the connection will give him the strength for what he needs to do.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There is another option,” Albus finally says, and when James meets his eyes he can see the tears streaming down his face. “We could alter our memories, make it so we don’t remember loving each other this way.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James shakes his head, looking away. “That’s memory magic, Albus,” he says, dropping his brother’s hand, his pulse quickening. “Memory magic is really dangerous. We could study for years and still get it wrong.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Albus reaches his hand out and forces James’s chin up, his gaze piercing down into James’s soul — through years of misunderstandings and childhood rough housing, through brotherly teasing and the touches of a lover, through every beautiful, painful moment until this one right here. The two of them. Together. Lost.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>James only has to glance into those green eyes to know that Albus has found the solution — to know that it’s all over. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Scorpius knows of a place.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“It looks like the trail is complete,” Edith states, motioning to the potion which is now a vibrant plum colour. James takes a moment to stare at it swirling through the liquid, and it’s absolutely breathtaking, just as it should be.</p><p>“You did very well, Mr Potter,” she says, and James doesn’t think it’s his imagination that she’s blinking back tears of her own.</p><p>“Thank you, Edith,” he says, reaching over and squeezing her hand once.</p><p>“Well,” she says, returning to her professional demeanor, “I’ll have the potion completed within an hour and you’re more than welcome to wait in our lobby if it’s easier. Before you head out, please just look over the paperwork and sign at the bottom.” She slides the papers across the table and indicates a small line towards the end of the page.</p><p>The thought comes to him while reading through the requests and requirements section. It’s not something that he’d been planning to do, it hadn’t even crossed his mind before this moment. But now, their love story fresh in his mind, it’s as if this is what he’s always been meant to do. The perfect ending to their story.</p><p>James rakes his eyes over the page, searching frantically for the correct spot. He smiles when he finds it and uses his pen to make the necessary amendment, and signs his name to the bottom, before sliding the papers back across the table.</p><p>Edith retrieves them and glances through, making sure everything is in order. “Oh,” she says, clearly surprised, “you know this will make a discrepancy —”</p><p>“I know,” James assures her.</p><p>“Okay,” she smiles, “Kasey will bring the potion out when it’s finished.”</p><p>James stands and makes his way to the door, stopping when Edith calls to him.</p><p>“Oh, and Mr. Potter?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“It was very nice meeting you.”</p><p>James doesn’t have to wait long before Albus emerges from the hallway. He flashes James a small smile, shuffling over to him and falling into the oversized orange couch at James’s side, dropping his head onto his shoulder. James smiles at the contact, kissing the top of his head, and inhaling his scent.</p><p>“You okay?” he asks quietly. Albus only shrugs in return. They sit like that, for how long, James isn’t sure, but he doesn’t think it’s quite a full hour before they hear the door open behind them. They both stand up, allowing their hands to brush in the space at their sides.</p><p>“Gentlemen,” Kasey calls, approaching them with two, small red bags in his hands. He holds one out for each of them. “Here are your potions,” he says with a smile. “The bags and bottles are marked but make sure you don’t mix them up, there would be disastrous consequences if you did.”</p><p>They nod and take the bags and James suddenly has the inexplicable urge to laugh. He can’t believe he’s just been handed a potion that will erase the most important part of his life in a tiny, little shopping bag, as if they’d just purchased Muggle Tylenol at the pharmacy.</p><p>“Good luck to you both,” Kasey says, “I know everything will turn out better than you’re expecting. You’ll still be the best of friends and the closest brothers.” He reaches out and squeezes Albus’s shoulder before turning and leaving them.</p><p>They make their way back to the hotel in silence, too sorrowful to trouble themselves with small talk, but too worn out to discuss anything heavier. Once they’re back in the room, they allow their bodies to say what they can’t quite articulate with words.</p><p>They make love and James tries desperately to pretend that it isn’t the last time. He tastes Albus’s lips, feels every inch of his skin, watches every tremble of his body, and does his best to simply exist in the moment. Because <em>this</em> moment, it’s perfect.</p><p>They clean up in silence, ridding themselves of anything that might cause confusion in the morning. James pulls back the covers on the bed at the far side of the room, the one that no one has slept in yet, and Albus climbs into it. As soon as the covers are pulled securely around his shoulders, Albus starts to panic, his body wracked with gasping sobs.</p><p>“It hurts, Jamie, it hurts.” He cries, sitting up and pulling his brother to him. “I’m going to miss you so much.”</p><p>“You won’t though, Albie,” James assures him, gently, trailing featherlight kisses over his face. “Everything is going to be like it’s supposed to be. Everything will be okay. It’ll be perfect.”</p><p>Albus nods, big, alligator tears streaming down his face. “Thank you for everything, Jamie,” he gasps, desperately clawing at James’s shirt, trying to cling on to this moment.</p><p>James's heart shatters, a sound more animal than human escaping his lips, as he pulls Albus into one last desperate kiss. “Thank you, Albie. I love you. I’ll love you forever.”</p><p>Albus tries to smile but falls into another sob, as he picks up the potion from the night stand. “For all the days, and all the time,” he croaks through sobs, “I’ll keep on loving you.”</p><p>James laughs. He laughs and he cries as he watches his brother unscrew the lid, put the potion to his lips, and drink.</p><p> </p><p>James groans irritably as another person unceremoniously crashes into him without so much as a backwards glance. Godric, he hates Heathrow airport.</p><p>“Do you see the bathroom?” Albus asks from his side, wiggling uncomfortably.</p><p>James attempts to scan the walls, a challenge considering how tightly the people are packed here. There’s a small break in the crowd and that’s when he sees him, standing directly under a light, the fluorescent bulb transforming his white hair into a halo. “There’s Scorpius,” he says to his brother, nudging him with his shoulder.</p><p>The moment Albus sees Scorpius, his eyes light up like Christmas morning, and it's more apparent than ever that they’re inevitable. “Scor!” he shouts, running forward and throwing his arms around his friend’s neck.</p><p>Scorpius hugs him back just as fiercely and James can’t help but watch the exchange fondly. That is, until Albus wretches back and announces, “be right back, I have to piss,” loudly enough that an old woman shoots them a dirty look.</p><p>James chuckles, watching after him, as he bobs and weaves through travelers. When his gaze returns to Scorpius, the man is eyeing him strangely. "You didn't do it," he says and it’s not a question.</p><p>"I'm going to,” he assures him, tapping his front pocket lightly. “I have the vial right here."</p><p>Scorpius crosses his arms over his chest, always the protector. "He wouldn't like that you didn't do it when you were supposed to.” And he’s not wrong, Albus would be furious if he knew that James didn’t follow right after him with the potion as they’d planned, that he’d spent the whole night distraught and alone. Fortunately though, he’ll never know.</p><p>“Well, he doesn’t remember that he doesn't like it,” James answers honestly. “And I had to see you first.”</p><p>“Me?” Scorpius squeaks, his demeanor settling quickly back into his more natural, anxious state.</p><p>“You need to know that he loves you Scorpius,” James insists, taking a step forward. “I mean, he loved you. Even before. Even with how all encompassing we were — he still loved you.”</p><p>Scorpius’s eyes are glassy now, as if this is the last thing he’d expected James to say but is the one thing he needs to hear. “A love like that,” James continues, “one that can still shine through all of that confusion and darkness. That's the real deal. And I needed you to know that. Don't question his feelings, okay?”</p><p>Scorpius nods too many times in rapid succession. “Thank you, James,” he says sincerely, swiping at his eyes. “Thank you.”</p><p>“Phew, I feel better,” Albus announces happily, appearing at their side. “I really should’ve gone before the Portkey.”</p><p>“Told you,” James says with a smile and a wink.</p><p>Albus rolls his eyes, turning to Scorpius. “So what do you say? Are we going home so you can make me a fry up?”</p><p>Scorpius nods, his eyes still watery and Albus looks suddenly concerned. He steps close to him and drops his voice, “you okay?” he asks. And it’s so sweet, so practiced, so intimate. It’s beautiful.</p><p>“Of course,” Scorpius answered with an affectionate smile.</p><p>“You want to come, James?” Albus asks.</p><p>“Nah,” James says, waving them off in an attempt to appear casual. “I've got something I have to do.”</p><p>“Alright,” Albus says with a shrug. “We seriously have to do another brother's trip soon. That was a blast, we should've done it sooner.”</p><p>“Definitely,” James agrees.</p><p>Albus smiles warmly, like he did when they were kids, long before tears, and kisses, even before Hogwarts. “Bye, James!”</p><p>“Hey!” James calls, stopping them in their tracks. “Love you, Albie.”</p><p>“Albie?” Albus asks, laughing lightly as he quirks up a questioning brow. “You haven't called me that since we were kids.”</p><p>James swallows hard, pushing down the pain. “I must be feeling nostalgic,” he manages, in spite of the impending tears.</p><p>“Alright,” Albus laughs. “Just don’t make a habit of it! I’ll see you Sunday!"</p><p>“See you,” James breathes quietly, the words falling on deaf ears. Albus has already turned away, chatting excitedly to Scorpius.</p><p>James watches them disappear into the crowd but he doesn't linger. He Disapparates and lands in the kitchen of his flat, wasting no time reaching into his front pocket and retrieving the vial of purple liquid.</p><p>As he brings the vial to his mouth, he imagines the taste of his brother's lips for the last time. Then he tips his head back, allowing the cool liquid to splash against his tongue —</p><p>—and forgets.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Massive thank yous to the mods, for being so accommodating and generally wonderful!  And to R for a quick and thorough beta.  You were a joy to work with!</p><p>===</p><p>This work is part of HP Next Gen Fest 2020. The creator will be revealed at the end of November.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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